


The Cloths of Heaven

by upthenorthmountain (aw264641)



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kristanna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aw264641/pseuds/upthenorthmountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by my favourite poem, 'He Wishes For The Cloths of Heaven' by WB Yeats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cloths of Heaven

_I don’t have anything to offer you_ , he said, and she didn’t know what he meant.

-

She knows he’s busy in the summer, but he still always has time to see her. He is always punctual, never late, even if they don’t have anything in particular planned. She isn’t used to being someone’s priority.

When he falls asleep on the grass after a picnic, his head in her lap, she strokes his hair back from his face and smiles.

-

The last apple is hers, the last sandwich, the last piece of cake. Without comment and without expectation.

-

His smile, when he sees her. It’s automatic, lighting up his whole face, like she’s the best thing he’s ever seen. He is not a man of many words but when he smiles like that she doesn’t need to hear them.

-

He expects her to keep up. He expects her to pay attention. In the castle he might defer to her but in the mountains he treats her as his equal and is happy to rely on her as she does on him. She feels strong, useful, capable.

“You can do it,” he says, and she finds that she can.

-

A world of silence and closed doors has blossomed out into sunlight and warmth, laughter and hope. She looks forward into a future that still isn’t set - but now it has a shape; they can fill in the details later, together.

-

The sunset paints the sky, streaks of golden and silver light overlaid on thick swathes of pink and orange. The whole mountain range glows, the light reflecting off the snow, making her feel small and insignificant and special and blessed all at the same time.

“I didn’t know,” she says softly, “thank you,” and he squeezes her hand.

-

 _I don’t have anything to offer you_ , he said, and she didn’t know what he meant.


End file.
